


Perfect

by IShipItAllAndThenSome



Series: Slow-Burning Laser Eyes [1]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: (Offscreen; she's already healed), (yeah right), Bisexual Kara Danvers, Cuddling & Snuggling, Engaged Sanvers (offscreen), F/F, Hurt Kara Danvers, Kara Danvers Is Hot, Lena Luthor Doesn't Know Kara Danvers is Supergirl, Lena Luthor is a Gay Mess, Lesbian Lena Luthor, Pining, Platonic Cuddling, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Protective Kara Danvers, Sharing a Bed, Thirsty Lena Luthor, referenced Sanvers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 18:26:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12114576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IShipItAllAndThenSome/pseuds/IShipItAllAndThenSome
Summary: In which Lena is a sleepy gay mess, Kara doesn't know any better (or does she?), Alex has a sense of humor, and Maggie Sawyer can see the gay a mile away.





	Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> I saw something cute on supercorpheadcanoncenter on Tumblr and I had to. 
> 
> I just. *clenches fist* Had To.

Lena’s a morning person by virtue of being a night person, in that, more often than not, she doesn’t go to sleep before sunrise. Something catches her attention - a contract, a project, a potential investor who could not only help the company and its consumers, but help its image as something removed from its less initialized past as Luthor and Lex Corp.s - and then it’s noon the next day, she hasn’t left her office or eaten in thirty hours, and Kara is swooping in with whole wheat streusel-topped cinnamon-raisin muffins and the perfect coffee.

She was a waitress at her coffee stop; she _knows things._

On one such day, Lena’s attention was caught in stages:

9a.m., an investor from Bangladesh saw some bullshit fake science article and needed coddling; this lasted until

6.45p.m., when the coddling reminded Lena of a dermal patch for vaccine delivery that could bypass the unfortunate symptoms and, with careful marketing, fly over vaxxers’ heads like Supergirl on a mission; she’d gone to her private lab, turned the news on for background noise, and got to work until

1.03a.m., when Supergirl had a massive confrontation with a literal army of space spawn that had grown in National City’s storm sewers, something comparable to a cross between a Komodo dragon and a Daddy Long Legs with caustic mucus that ate through blacktop like fire through Kleenex, that lasted about three hours, every second fraught with tension. She’d steered clear of the slime, for the most part, but she’d gotten between one slick, scaly leg and a bystander who’d gotten trapped in a car acid-welded shut, catching a nasty chemical burn across her midsection as she got them free.

Come 4.30a.m., fixated on the image of supposedly-indestructible skin _sizzling_ like that, Lena started thinking about spray-on skin. A genetically neutral protein matrix that could sterilize on contact and eliminate healing time and scar tissue would revolutionize the medical field, and keep people safer - not just human people, either, if she could make it adaptable enough. If it reached even half the popularity of goddamn Neosporin, she’d put Neosporin out of business.

Which. _Bad_. 

She made a note to look into buying them out, just in case. Job loss is no joke.

That, of course, took her until about nine just to finish theorizing, and she only stopped then because an alarm on her phone went off, an 8-bit rendition of _Bye Bye Bye_.

Her Kara Alarm.

“Brunch.” She slapped herself in the face so hard her brain hurt. _“Fuck.”_

As quickly as possible, she fled, changing in the car on her way to Kara’s. 

Her spare clothes came in two varietals: Office Mishap, a.k.a. Roll for Intimidation, and Free Time, a.k.a. Roll to Seduce.

She would not admit to herself just why that second option had been made an option in the first place, but she would admit to carefully curating a rotating selection of tastefully low-cut necklines and flattering silhouettes in colors that made her stark coloring look almost surreal. Image, she had been taught, was very important, and every time her precise image earned Kara’s admiration or approval, the heels and the tailoring were deeply worth it.

Especially when, appalled by her lack of “comfy clothes,” Kara insisted upon loaning Lena pajamas. 

It would take a woman of steel to resist wearing a worn-soft college t-shirt with Kara’s initials scribbled on the label, especially when it was offered so earnestly and smelled so _good_.

So Lena changed into a silk sundress the color of Chinese pottery in the backseat of a company car, trusting Georgie not to look, and even stopped off to get flowers - red-tipped yellow roses and jasmine, because being late was inexcusable, but could be forgiven with proper palliatives, and because she couldn’t resist the message, even knowing Kara wouldn’t see it - on her way, still taking only twenty eight and a half minutes.

She was still late, so she ran upstairs in her stupid stilettos and is greeted, almost before she began to knock, by a sleepy-eyed reporter still in her pajamas.

Kara’s PJs came in two varietals: _Pajama Game,_ a.k.a. adorably sensible sets, and premium cable, a.k.a. “It’s hot, what do you want from me?”

The answer Lena never gave and always wanted to was _Keep being this hot, and don’t hate me for looking._

Today was a premium cable day. Kara’s curls were a rumpled nest, glowing in the late morning sun as she ran her fingers through it, and the movement of her arm only served to hike up the hem of her cut-off t-shirt further, to the fortunate and unfortunate effect of reminding the universe that she was ripped.

Kara Danvers had abs for days. Kara Danvers was shredded. Kara Danvers’ rock-hard stomach could break your fist and your brain.

Lena’s brain was pretty broken.

“Um.”

“Oh, gosh, Lena!” Kara pushed the door the rest of the way open, leaning onto it and yawning, stretching her arms over her head to really feel it through; Lena really felt it, too, watching her muscles flex and contract under her golden skin. “I’m so sorry, I slept in. I had a, um.”

Lena was transfixed, utterly helpless to look away as Kara’s hand grazed her bare stomach self-consciously.

“A long night,” she finally finished, voice still sleep-thick. “If you can just give me maybe twenty minutes, I can be showered and dressed and ready to go.”

“Oh, take your time,” Lena said breezily. She hoped breezily; breathlessly wouldn’t have the same panache. “I got distracted by the news last night and ended up getting sucked into a project, so…” She swallowed. “It’s no problem. Do what you’ve got to do. I don’t. Mind.”

“Thanks, Lena. You’re the best.” Kara wrapped her arms around Lena in one of those bone-meltingly perfect hugs, still duvet-warm, smelling of everything good in the world - including the apology bouquet, which was crinkling protestationally between them. She sprang back at the sound. “You brought me flowers!”

“Well. I figured, me being late, I should make reparations.” Lena’s knuckles had grazed bare belly and lived to tell the tale. Once her brain was fully back on line, she’d have them write _sonnets_ about the experience. Extending them perhaps a little too eagerly, she said, “Here.”

Kara’s hand brushed hers in taking the flowers, and she smiled, bringing them to her face and inhaling. “They smell incredible. And they’re lovely, really - you have the best taste in flowers. I still have one or two of the ones from my office pressed in a book somewhere.”

Lena’s heart fluttered. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah. Maggie - Alex’s fiancée - makes fun of me for it, but I believe in treasuring precious things, y’know?”

As Kara explained, she padded over to the kitchen, pulling a green glass vase out from below the sink. As she did so, she bent at the waist, and Lena’s brain, barely halfway recovered from the initial onslaught of perfect abs, suffered a full frontal attack of perfect butt in boxer briefs.

Lena whispered, “Nice,” to herself and tried not to drown in shame. And other feelings.

“Huh?” 

Kara straightened up, twisting at the waist to look at Lena from over the kitchen table - which, again, abs - and Lena’s face erupted in flames.

“Nice pajamas.”

It seemed it was Kara’s turn to blush, and she touched the elastic waist, printed with bright red Calvin Klein font letters that spelled out Supergirl. The actual boxers themselves were cerulean, patterned with the crest of the house of El, which had pretty much never looked better.

Then Kara snapped the waistband - _save me,_ Lena begged, _or, y’nkow, don’t; either’s good_ \- and shrugged. Her cheeks were still pink. “Alex thought they were funny.”

“I - um.”

Lena’s brain was too busy replaying the _snap_ to supply her mouth with an answer.

“I just wanted more air flow last night,” Kara continued. She twisted back over towards the sink, filling the vase at the tap. Her shoulders looked delicious, rippling as she turned the knob. “It was so hot, right?”

“I wouldn’t know. L Corp is climate controlled.”

Kara turned, vase resting on one cocked hip, and pouted. “Lena!”

“Kara…”

Lena hoped she sounded more playfully PG than she probably did.

“Sleep is important for the brain.” Kara set the vase down on the table between them and put her hands on her hips, fingers digging into the curve of her waist and the plane of her belly just a little. “And your brain is important! Not only is it one of the best on the planet, but it’s what makes you _you_ , and I quite like you.”

She gave a decisive nod, but all Lena could think of was: A) “I quite like you,” and B) how much she wanted to swap hands with Kara for, like, two seconds.

Kara’s gentle tirade on the topic of proper sleep was probably very thoroughly researched and cogent and caring, like all Kara’s attempts to make Lena take care of herself, but her shirt had slipped off one shoulder, her stomach flexed with every breath - and there could be quite a few of them, when she got going on the topic of someone she cared about’s wellbeing - and that meant Lena didn’t hear a word.

As Kara spoke, her dexterous fingers freed the flowers from their wrapping and potted them, one by one. A little water splashed up onto her hands; she wiped it - where else? - on her stomach.

And then there was a perfume commercial happening, because _lone drop of water trickling down golden abs_ is boilerplate for that kind of thing, and it was going on right in front of Lena’s eyes.

_Oh, wow, am I gay._

“ - na? Lena?”

“Hm?”

“We don’t have to go out today if you’re that tired.”

“What? ‘m not tired.”

“Lena, you’re drifting.” 

“I am definitely not drifting,” Lena insisted, biting her lip. “I’m very focused.”

Kara’s forehead crinkled, and she crossed her arms, better framing her torso into two distinct and distracting segments. “What are you so focused on?”

“Abs,” Lena thought.

Only too late did she realize that, perhaps, she was tired, because her damn brain-to-mouth filter was broken as hell and she’d said it aloud.

“Oh!” Kara’s voice was as bright as her smile. “I box with Alex. And James. You’d be surprised how good a workout throwing a few punches can be!”

Well-intentioned, she turned the corner of the table, coming around to Lena’s side, and hopped up onto it. The skin of her stomach wrinkled a little at the waistband, a tiny adorable detail that just served to remind Lena that _oh god this is happening_ , and Kara guided Lena’s hand to her abdomen. 

“Wow,” Lena breathed.

“Wait, wait, I’m not flexing.”

“You’re not flex - oh, my god.”

_Flexing. Wow._

“So, what was it that had you so distracted that you couldn’t catch so much as a single wink,” Kara asked, still holding Lena’s hand to her stomach, “let alone the recommended forty?”

“Skin,” Lena blurted. _Oh, god._

“Skin?”

“Spray-on. As a - a - a - a medical tool. For, um, injuries.” Lena almost swallowed her tongue. “I was watching the news and I saw, um, Supergirl get hurt, and her skin is supposed to be impervious, right? But I thought…”

Kara’s stomach had done a funny sort of clench. Lena hadn’t known muscles could be that solid.

“You thought?” Kara prompted.

“If… If… I, um, if I could create a rapidly multiplying sort of stem cell approximation, one neutral across multiple species, a - a protein mesh.” Lena gulped. “To repair damaged cells. It could. Um. Totally eradicate dermal injury - scarring, infection, nerve damage.”

“That’s incredible, Lena!” Kara smiled and gave her hand a squeeze, and wow, they were basically holding hands. Lena was holding Kara’s hand and touching her perfect abs; if she could tell tiny baby gay Lena about this morning, tiny baby gay Lena might not have survived to experience it for herself. “I’m _sure_ Supergirl would be so proud to know she had a part in inspiring something so incredible. And impressed. By you. Because that is so impressive, and you are _so_ impressive.”

“ _You’re_ impressive,” Lena muttered, fingers curling just a little, digging gingerly into Kara’s skin, and _wow,_ more muscle. 

Kara shrugged and said, “I work out.”

“More than just…” Lena’s fingers smoothed out, grazing the hem of Kara’s shirt. _“This._ I mean, yes, this, but also all of you.” She looked up, smiling. “You’re phenomenal, Kara Danvers.”

Lena ruined the moment, like an idiot, by letting out a massive yawn.

“You’re sweet, Lena Luthor,” Kara murmured, stroking Lena’s hair, “and sleepy. Come on. We’ll get lunch, instead. Linner. You can borrow some pajamas, because _we_ re taking a nap.”

Lena had to roll up the sleeves and cuffs on one of Kara’s _Pajama Game_ varietals so the set didn’t totally swallow her, and she put up a token protest when Kara gave her the bed. Her resistance won her a bedmate.

Wrapped up in Kara’s blankets, playing big spoon (or jet pack), Lena learned something very important.

As mind-blowing as they were to look at and to touch, when flexed or casual, Kara’s perfect stomach was best when it was under her own relaxed hands, moving in time with her soft breaths.

Lena snuggled in closed to Kara, nose pressed against the top of her spine, and had one of the best sleeps of her life.

**Author's Note:**

> The post that inspired this fic lives [here.](https://supercorpheadcanoncenter.tumblr.com/post/159574059030/7)
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this! This is my first time writing a pre-relationship one shot; usually they spiral into a 150k+ word fic that has too much backstory and never gets finished, so this is a milestone! A tiny, fluffy, Soft™ gay milestone.


End file.
